Sheningey, and after his death became the wife of Hiakatoo, commonly known as Gardeau, a fighting Indian whose name is not remembered in a kindly manner by residents of the West Branch Valley. His part in the tomahawking of the wounded at Fort Freeland, near Milton in 1779, gave him an unenviable reputation, but as to the merits of the case the loyal “White Woman of the Genessee” is silent. As the wife of Hiakatoo, Mary Jemison became the mother of a large family, who inherited a sort of Kingship or overlordship of the Senecas in Western New York State. The last “King” Jemison died several years ago near Red House, on the Allegheny River; in his lifetime he sold patent medicines in Pittsburgh, and exhibited a unique collection of Indian relics, including the silver war crowns of Chiefs Cornplanter, Blacksnake, and Red Jacket. Mary Jemison is principally remembered by her book of memoirs which she dictated to James E. Seaver, an historian, shortly before her death, and which gives a vivid picture of Indian warfare and pioneer conditions during her long life. Her influence on the Indians was beneficent, and her aim was always to bring the two races together in friendly intercourse, her feeling being that, of the two, the Indians were the least savage and warlike. Eastern Pennsylvania can claim another equally picturesque Indian captive in Regina Hartman, yet her unmarked last resting place in Tulpehocken Churchyard, near Stouchsburg, Berks County, is known only to a few, among them Dr. Walker L. Stephen, of Reading, the best-posted Indian folk-lorist in Pennsylvania. If Regina Hartman had lived in New England or Europe she would rank as one of the great historical personages of all time, yet Pennsylvania claims only a mild acquaintance with her. For the benefit of those present who have not heard of her strange story, we will summarize it briefly. During an Indian attack along the Blue Mountains, in the vicinity of the present Town of Orwigsburg, Regina, then nine years of age, was carried into captivity by the Indians, and for seven years was taken from place to place by her captors. At last, after the final peace of the French and Indian War, in 1763, when Mary Jemison elected to remain with the Indians, a great army of white prisoners were turned over to the British Colonial forces, and sent east to Carlisle Barracks, to be restored to their relatives. Regina Hartman’s mother journeyed to Carlisle, but out of the long line of sunburned children who were marched past her could not recognize her long lost daughter. The unhappy woman, in bitter disappointment after her long trip, broke down and wept. Her grief attracted the attention of Colonel Henry Bouquet, the brave deliverer of Fort Duquesne, a Huguenot from Switzerland, who was in charge of the released captives, and addressing her in Pennsylvania German, he asked if there was any song that she used to sing to her missing daughter in the old childhood days. The